


Enchantment

by Shaymed



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 19:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaymed/pseuds/Shaymed
Summary: She's the blandest woman in Dalaran, maybe even all of Azeroth, and yet Ervaen has found him self slowly falling for her. One night, when she needs help testing an enchantment, Ervaen doesn't hesitate to volunteer.





	Enchantment

The tavern was growing ever lonelier as one-by-one the final patrons of the evening left for inns to spend the night. Ervaen looked across the empty tables, seeing past all the glasses he’d have to clean and the pretzels that needed swept. This night his eyes rested on the priestess in the corner who never smiled and brushed off all his advances as though he was only making friendly conversation.

She’d brought a book with her. For hours she’d sat nursing various teas she’d brought, occasionally asking him to add a shot of vodka.

He thought back on the times he’d seen her around Dalaran before then. She was a pale blood elf with black hair and bright green eyes. But now, over the months, her skin had darkened to a pale shade of indigo. Her black hair was tinted purple and some tentacles were shyly creeping from her scalp in the line behind her pointed bangs. Her airy blue eyes glanced up at him, then checked her tea cup, then returned to the book in her fingers.

Ervaen poured two cups of black coffee and splashed some vodka within one, then went over to the table in the corner. He set the spiked coffee in front of the priestess, then sipped at his own.

“You didn’t put any in yours,” she said.

“Still working. Can’t drink on the clock.”

Docra nodded in understanding.

“What’re you reading?”

“The journal of one of my compatriots. He took extensive notes while within the Telogrus Rift over the last decade.”

The high elf leaned back and tried to act casual. “Are you close with this friend?”

“You’re jealous, Mr. Nightheart,” Docra said. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes, her face still turned to the book.

“No, I’m just curious. I have no reason to be jealous.” He set his coffee down and trickled a few spoons of sugar into it.

“Don’t you?” she asked. “Isn’t jealousy the common reaction for finding out someone you’ve been flirting with has someone in their life you might consider competition?”

“Flirting with…?” He laughed awkwardly as he said it.

Docra blinked slowly at him—an action he’d grown accustomed to, and even enjoyed watching. “Just because I don’t reciprocate or react, doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Ervaen cleared his throat and sat upright. “I suppose you caught me. Why, uh, why is it that you don’t say anything?”

“I’m not interested.”

“Someone else, or…?”

She gently closed her book and took up the coffee to blow on it. Ervaen chewed on the inside of his lip as he watched hers pucker to blow along the surface of the beverage. Her eyes bored into him, scrutinizing his obsessive study of her as she sipped from the porcelain cup. Something about knowing she knew exactly what he was doing made it that much more thrilling. There she was, her eyes on him, studying him in the same way as he was her. And yet he didn’t see the same interest reflected back at him. She was merely observing him while he was trying for more.

“What do you hope to accomplish with the journal?” he asked when it became clear he’d gotten his answer.

“I have been creating fertility spells for years. These void elves are different. Thus far none have managed to reproduce, though they haven’t been trying. And so I wonder if they can.”

“Why does it matter if they can or not?” Ervaen leaned forward, truly interested in the subject.

“Standard enchantments are typically only as strong as an individual needs. Some have more trouble than others—Illidari, for example, have great difficulty conceiving. It’s not impossible, but they usually need help.”

He nods as she pauses to drink. “And void elves?”

“I think it’s the same. I crafted an enchantment to hopefully aid with that.”

Ervaen smiled and rested an elbow on the table. “You act like you don’t care about people, and yet you invent spells to help them.”

“Because they pay me. And I didn’t like when they’d cry when I told them an enchantment didn’t exist.”

“It made you sad?”

“No. When people cry they tend to stay longer than they’re welcome to.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. “Why do you come to the tavern if you don’t like people?”

“Because you never let me run out of drink. Lets me keep reading. If it wasn’t your job I’d almost think you were letting me use you.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You _are_ using me. But it’s okay.” His eyes drifted back to the book. “So have you found a test subject for your enchantment?”

She let out a long breath. “No. None of them are interested. They’re afraid of the side effects. I’d test it myself, but I can’t impregnate myself.”

Ervaen’s eyes shot to the tabletop. “What kind of side effects are there?”

“Infertility. Multiple births. Sudden bleeding from the reproductive organs. But that’s only on the person using the enchantment.”

He blinked at the wood under his palm. “Those sound…extreme.”

“It hasn’t happened in decades. I’ve had enough practice.” She set her coffee down and stood, looking around at the now empty bar. “Looks like it’s closing time. Thank you for the—”

“I’ll help you,” Ervaen blurted.

She blinked at him. “You’re not a void elf.”

“Do I have to be?”

She thought on it, then shrugged. “No. Give me twenty-four hours. You know where my house is, I’m sure.” She swept from the tavern before he could reply.

Ervaen ran his fingers through his blond hair and rushed to start cleaning, then forced himself to slow down as he reminded himself that he had twenty-four hours. He finished cleaning and closing quickly anyway, then sat in anxious silence in his room upstairs. The next night, the priestess didn’t show up at the tavern. He closed and cleaned up as fast as the night before, then rushed upstairs to make himself presentable. He stopped as he caught himself in the mirror.

“She literally doesn’t care what you look like, idiot,” he said.

He went to the little hut huddled under and between two buildings and rang the bell. A black cat mrowed at him from the branch of a dead tree, then walked inside through the missing pane of a window. The door swung open to reveal a room as dark as the night outside, save three indigo candles lit on the coffee table between two black couches.

Docra stood in the doorway, a sheer purple scarf in her hands. “You’re five minutes early.”

“I can wait out here and knock again.”

She blinked slowly, but didn’t laugh. “That was a great joke. Very entertaining. I like good jokes. Come in.”

“So…this whole time, all I had to do was crack a good joke and you’d invite me over?” He closed the door behind him and looked up at a carpeted cat tree, where Ivory had curled up to watch them with a bored curiosity.

She blinked in the darkness, her large eyes like two moons. “No. I invited you over before you made the joke. Come with me.”

She led him to the back of the room, past a strange water fountain-like creation playing a tuneless song on a series of pipes. She pulled back a curtain that disguised her back bedroom and bathroom as a wall. Once in the back room, she stood in the middle and stared at her bed.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with the implications of this working or not working?” she blurted, her tone clipped in what might have been an emotion, but there wasn’t enough for Ervaen to pinpoint what it might have been.

“The side effects won’t happen to me. And if it works, then… What was your plan for that?”

“Full disclosure, I hadn’t planned for that. I’m trained in the elimination of unwanted—”

“I’d be…okay with not resorting to that.”

The priestess stood in a strange silence for a minute.

Ervaen let out a long breath and went to her. “One problem at a time, then? First one being…don’t tell my sister.”

Docra nodded. “She loves gossip. This is just business.”

Ervaen turned her to face him. He leaned down, his lips a breath from hers. “Just business,” he whispered, more to remind himself.

He set his lips on hers, relishing for a moment the thickness and the curve of their pout. He set his palms to her neck and kissed her deeper, urging her lips open so he could gently suck at the bottom one. She ran her teeth along her bottom lip as she pulled back and cast her eyes down.

“You don’t have to kiss me,” she said.

“Do you mind if I do, anyway?” he asked.

Docra shook her head, then reached up to undo the buttons on her dress. He eased her hands away and slipped the buttons through, leaning forward to kiss her. His fingertips tickled along her skin as he pushed her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor around her ankles. He slipped the scarf from her clenched fist.

“What do we do with this?”

“I have to wear it for twenty-four hours before and after. I was just switching wrists when you knocked.”

Ervaen smirked. “That…gives me ideas.”

Docra didn’t say anything, instead opting to unfasten her brazier and let it fall as well. He pushed her chin up with a curved finger, then took her hands in his.

“Slow down,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers.

“I’m not good at this.”

“So you’re not good with people,” he said. “I know. I don’t care.”

“I can try,” she whispered, pushing up to kiss him.

He pulled away. “I don’t want you to pretend. Just… It’s just business, remember?”

She nodded, but tilted her face up anyway. Ervaen smiled and met her lips with his. He directed her to the bed, a hand on her waist and his lips locked to hers. He slid her panties down, then urged her onto the bed. His fingertips ran down the soft, smooth skin of her leg, lifting it so he could wrap the scarf around her ankle and tie it.

“Not too tight?” he asked.

“It’s fine.”

He pulled his shirt over his head and leaned over her. She stiffened beneath him.

“Relax.”

She nodded, but remained tense.

Ervaen sighed into her lips as he untied his trousers and pushed them down. He climbed over the priestess and slicked his thumb between her lower lips to test the moisture. She gave a small squeak, her hips twitching the smallest bit. He slipped the tip of one finger inside her, then slowly pushed deeper as his tongue slipped between her lips. He withdrew his finger, then pushed two inside, pressing the tips along the sensitive area at the roof. She inhaled sharply and sucked on his tongue as her cavern tightened around his fingers. His member twitched at the two sensations.

He removed his fingers and pressed the head to her opening. Ervaen wrapped his arm behind her head, then took her hip in his other hand, and slowly pushed inside, breathing in as each inch was pressed with the tightness of her warm cavern. She moaned slowly and bit his lower lip.

“Too hard,” he said on a groan.

She released his lip and instead focused on her hand pressing his into her hip. She gave a small gasp as he withdrew and thrust back inside. He clenched his jaw and concentrated on his rhythm. He wanted to stare into her eyes, but the sensation so tight around his member had his body on edge and forced his eyes closed. He put his lips to her neck and breathed in, relishing her strange perfume; then he opened his mouth to take in some skin and give it a gentle, sucking kiss. Her body responded by relaxing, save her legs, which tensed and caused a ripple within her womanhood.

Ervaen groaned. He released her hip and grabbed at the comforter beneath them, taking a fistful as he hissed a breath in and bit down on the skin of her neck.

“Ow,” she said, her tone as dull as ever.

His thrusting was slow and determined, almost desperate as he gripped her hip again and urged it to move in rhythm with his.

“Docra,” he groaned, pressing his hips deep against hers.

“Yes?”

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, her breath growing heavy.

“Mmm. Your voice. Drives me wild.”

She blinked at him as he pushed up to lean over her. “No one likes the way I talk.”

“I do.”

He angled her hips up, then pushed her legs wider to thrust downward into the heat between her thighs. Her body responded by tensing and releasing the juices of her enthusiasm to lubricate his thrusting. She let out a small moan and his fingers tightened on the inside of her thigh.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Do it again.”

She moaned again and he squeezed at her thigh.

“Talk to me,” he insisted again.

“About what?” she asked breathlessly. Her eyelids lowered only halfway as her jaw went slack so she could pant with his thrusts.

“Anything. What we’re doing.”

He grunted and thrusted hard and deep, then bent to suck at her indigo nipple. He took the tip between his teeth and bit down the tiniest amount as he sucked. In response, Docra’s body tightened, her legs hugging to him as her back arched.

“We’re trying to conceive a child,” she said, her eyes squeezed shut as she opened her mouth wide to gasp.

His desire grew at the words and made him pause. The prospect was suddenly exciting and terrifying at the same time. It aroused him in a way he’d not anticipated. He’d always lusted after the priestess as he watched her in the tavern, but now he was faced with the very real possibility that she would have his child. He pressed his lips into hers desperately and passionately.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered against her lips.

She reached her hands up to grip the edge of the bed as his thrusts became more urgent. “I want it,” she said, then bit her lip and moaned, closing her eyes. “I need your seed.”

“Don’t stop,” he groaned into her collar.

She threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him close so her breath tickled his lips. “Give me a child, Ervaen.”

A chill ran down his spine and his member responded to her voice and her command, and her finally using his first name. “Yes,” he groaned. His loins throbbed as his climax built, making him hot at the core.

“Spill your seed inside me,” she gasped as his thighs pounded against hers. “Come inside me.” She whined as her own climax threatened to burst forth. Her eyes widened as their gazes locked together. “Give me a child,” she urged.

He hissed, his muscles tensing as his long shaft grew harder within her. She cried out as it pounded against the wall of her most feminine part.

“Come in me,” she urged again on a lusty breath.

“Yes!” he cried out.

His orgasm burst from the tip, filling her with his hot seed. She gasped at the sensation and tilted her hips up eagerly, welcoming his still hard shaft deeper into her. He thrusted harder, until his member began to soften, then he pressed the base to her hot lower lips and continued to move against her.

“Take it in,” he said, gasping. “I want you to come for me, now.”

As if her body responded to being ordered around, her climax rocked through her. Her legs tightened at his sides, her toes curling. Her fists dug into the comforter and his neck, then scratched down along his shoulder.

“Don’t hold your breath,” he said on a small chuckle.

She exhaled, a small half moan half scream joined the air spilling from her parted lips. He remained pressed to her, but motionless. Staring at her in the pale candlelight. Memorizing her full-moon eyes as she blinked at him.

“I’m sorry if that wasn’t enjoyable to you,” she said.

He wrapped an arm behind her neck and used his free hand to trace along her cheekbone and jaw. “Why would you think it wasn’t enjoyable to me?”

“I hear partners with no experience can be unpleasant.”

He blinked at her, unsure how to react. “You’ve never…been with anyone before?”

She pushed up onto her elbows. “No. I never wanted to. It’s not something that interests me.” She pushed her hand to his chest, urging him off her. “Is that something you’re not okay with?”

He blinked as he withdrew and rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I…I mean, it’s…just business, right?”

“Exactly.”

He pulled her back as she stood to get her dress. “Ever heard of mixing business with pleasure?”

“I’ve heard of it, but never done it.”

He chuckled and stood to throw the comforter and top sheet aside, then leaned into the bed, pulling her with him.

“What are you doing?”

“Just come here,” he laughed. He wrapped her in his arms and sighed into the top of her head. “Some people like to cuddle afterward.”

“I normally hate extended periods of direct contact with people,” she said, blinking up at the black sheer canopy over her bed.

“I guess we can stop, if you want?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I suppose I can’t object if I’m asleep. You can continue.”

He smiled in the darkness and pressed a kiss to her scalp. “Good night, Docra.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She set a palm on his bicep. “Thank you for helping me, Ervaen. It was kind of you.”

He stayed quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry, you’ve caught me off guard. Did you just say something nice about me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, “it made me feel all warm and fuzzy.”

She set her finger to his lips and pressed. “Shh.”


End file.
